Ghost Recon: Hope County
by cammando205
Summary: A Crossover of Far Cry 5 with Nomad, Holt, Weaver, and Midas from Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon Wildlands. Rated M for harsh language, mature content, and high amounts of violence. (Undergoing rewrite as of May 2019)
1. Chapter 1

"I'm seeing three tangos. Wait, make that five."

Nomad sighed.

"Probably more inside. Send Scout in."

"Ten-Four" responded Holt. "Okay, drone's up, moving for the building."

Nomad crouched behind Holt, peering over his shoulder at Scout's camera feed.

Like a phantom, the little drone floated past the ignorant cultists patrolling the compound, heading for the doorway.

"Holy-"

"Jesus..."

The camera feed showed a group of people, all of them in prayer, while another man, dressed in white camo with a red balaclava read phrases from a bible.

"Fucking lunatics..." grunted Nomad.

"Alright, how do you want to play this?" Holt asked.

"Weaver, you still got those assholes on the roof?" Inquired the squad leader.

"Roger that Nomad, got a visual on all five of em'." responded the sniper.

"Okay then. Holt, bring the drone up to the roof and prepare for strafe maneuver."

"Ten-Four."

"Weaver, get ready to fire."

"Yessir."

"3, 2, 1, open fire!" Called Nomad.

Weaver fired. One of the cultists' heads burst open. His comrades spun around, taken completely by surprise.

"Holt!"

Like clockwork, the drone zoomed up, it's integrated SMG peppering the remaining cultists with nine millimeter bullets. Immediately cultists began spilling out of the factory, only for Midas to spray them with 5.56 caliber rounds. The survivors attempted to retreat inside, barely managing to get through the doorway without being killed.

"Go!" Shouted Nomad.

And with the professional demeanor only shown by Ghosts, he and Midas rushed inside, killing everyone save for their "Preacher". In the firefight he'd been shot in the hand. That, however, was the least of his worries. For he was now faced with two highly trained and heavily armed special forces soldiers.

"Here's the deal asshole." Snarled Nomad as he grabbed the cultist and forced him into a kneeling position. "Either you answer all of my questions or I put a bullet in your chest and leave you to choke on your own blood. Now what's it gonna be?"

"I ain't scared of you, pig!" spat the cultist in defiance. "Praise be to the father!"

"Hey boss, check this out." Midas said, pointing at something.

Nomad looked. Midas had found a circular saw stand.

"Perfect. Rev it up Midas." He said, grinning.

The powered saw spun up with a buzz. Nomad dragged the struggling cultist over to it. Seeing the piece of machinery, the cultist began to get a little nervous.

"Wait, hang on a tick!"

"Shut up and keep moving." Growled Nomad.

Reaching the saw, Nomad turned the cultist around to look him in the eye.

"Now I'll ask you again. Answer my questions, or talk to this saw blade. Time's ticking, and I'm not in a particularly merciful mood today."

Still defiant, the cultist held his silence.

"Saw blade it is!" Nomad announced as he held the cultist up to the spinning blade.

"FUCK! Okay, I'll talk! I'll TALK!" screamed the cultist.

"What's John Seed planning?!" Shouted Nomad. "Sing Bitch!"

"He's making bombs!" Squealed the panicked man.

"Okay bombs, what's he doing with them?" Growled the soldier.

"They're being put on trucks. Gonna send them all over the valley! Please that's all I know!" screamed the cultist, as a puddle began to form at his feet.

"Bitch!" Nomad snapped. "Enjoy your headache!"

Nomad slammed his pistol against the cultist's head, knocking him out. Midas smirked. He loved seeing Nomad's inner sadist.

"Hey boss, I got a laptop here." Holt said.

"Hack it man."

"With pleasure." the technician said. "Hmmm. Oh. Wow. There is a LOT of porn on this thing. Aha!"

"What'd you find? Aside from all the details about the owner's sexual fantasies." Asked Nomad.

"The location of one of the bliss factories. It's in a bunker just southeast of here."

"Does this mean we get to blow shit up?" Midas asked hopefully.

"Yes indeed we get to blow shit up." Replied Nomad.


	2. Chapter 2

Nomad, Weaver, Holt, and Midas crept slowly through the bush. Based on the info garnered from the laptop, the bunker was very close.

'"Hold up." Nomad said. "Got a hatch here."

"Okay back up. Weaver, cover the hatch. Midas, get a charge ready."

"Ten Four"

Suddenly they heard footsteps. Someone was climbing up the ladder. Sure enough, the hatch popped open and a cultist started climbing out.

"Fire."

Weaver's sniper reported with a loud crack. The cultist crumpled and fell back down the hatch. Inside they heard shouting as another one popped into view.

"Eyes up!" Nomad yelled as the squad opened fire on the hostile, riddling him with bullets.

"Midas, go!"

Midas sprinted up towards the hatch, demo charge in hand.

"Charge is primed! Fire in the hole!" He yelled as he dropped the charge down the hatch.

The folks inside the bunker started yelling. They'd been expecting their attackers to come down the hatch. Instead they found themselves face to face with plastic explosives.

"Let's go! Let's go! Move out! Go! Go!" Nomad yelled as he and the other ghosts hauled ass away from the bunker. About ten seconds later the charge detonated. A mighty explosion rocked the ground, knocking Nomad and the ghosts off their feet. Immediately afterwards came a much larger explosion as the chemicals and any other explosive within the bunker began to cook off. A magnificent fireball rose up from where the bunker used to be.

Dazed, Nomad and his men turned to look.

"Holy shit!" Midas laughed.

"I think it's safe to say that that bunker will be late on its next shipment." Holt said with a chuckle.

"Don't celebrate yet, we've got company." Weaver warned.

"Shit, he's right. Get down." Nomad ordered. Going prone, They surveyed their visitors. Two Eden's Gate pickups, eight armed men.

"How we going to play this boss?" Weaver asked.

"Weaver, pick a target. Wait for my signal. Holt, get the drone ready. Midas, you're with me."

"Ten-four."

"Weaver!"

*Bang!*

"Holt!"

Scout zoomed in low, spraying 9mm bullets.

"Midas, let's go!"

Nomad and Midas rushed the remaining cultists. Midas dived on one with his knife, while put down two others with his pistol.

"Grr... Get the fuck off me pig!"

"Shut up." Midas snapped as he slammed the cultist up against one of the trucks.

Nomad walked up.

"I've got some questions that you're gonna answer you little shit."

"Fuck you." replied the Peggy.

"This one's got some spunk huh Midas." Nomad said sarcastically.

Midas smiled.

Turning back to their prisoner, Nomad spoke. "Saw some of your little club's torture videos. Bet you think you're pretty hardcore huh?"

The cultist just glared.

"Wait'll you see what I can do. Here's a hint: It involves a nine millimeter, a silencer, and your kneecaps. Whether I include a wire hangar and some electricity is up to you."

"Now hold on a sec- I got rights! Fucking Cops..."

"Cops? Ha. Cops?! We ain't cops buddy." Nomad sneered. "We can do all kinds of fucked up shit to you."

With that, Nomad pistol whipped their prisoner, knocking him out.

"Midas, put this guy in the truck. I'm gonna leave a little note for our friend John."


	3. Chapter 3

John seed looked around with his hands on his hips. In front of him was the remains of Holland Valley's largest Bliss lab. Behind him, his men chattered quietly amongst themselves.

"Gentlemen." John said, interrupting them. "Someone is not following our rules. I don't know exactly who it is, but I can say this much: This was not the work of the 'resistance'. No, this was done by professionals."

His men looked up at him slackjawed.

John continued, "But professionals or not, they will be found. They will be punished. They will repent. And they will say yes. But now, it is time for us to leave."

As they started heading back to their vehicles, John turned one last time to look at the wreckage. Hanging from a tree was one of his mean, his throat slashed and a poster reading, "You're next Seed!" was attached to his body.


	4. Chapter 4

*Slap*

"Wake up"

Nomad looked at the unconscious cultist. While the man was out he and his men had taken the liberty of cuffing him to a pipe inside a bunker they found.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!" Nomad yelled as he gave the cultist another smack.

"Huh, what? Wait, where the fuck am I?" Asked the man.

"You are my guest." Nomad answered casually.

"Fuck you sinner!"

Nomad tsked. Bending down, he retrieved two large clamps. Each one had a wire attached.

"Remember what I said about electricity? I've got a nice fat dosage waiting here. I'd be happy to give it to you if you keep up the tough guy act."

The cultist stared.

"No answer. Okay, guess you wanna be tough." Nomad said as he approached the man with the clamps.

"Ahh… Fuck, Okay, I'll talk, just don't shock me, please."

"That's better. Now, a little birdy told me that John's planning to send fertilizer bombs all over Holland Valley. I need to know where these bombs are and where they're going."

"Dammit… Fine. They're being stored at a barn near the powerplant. I know he's planning to send one to the Airport." Admitted the cultist.

"Better. That wasn't so hard was it?" Nomad said as he turned to leave.

"Wait, what about me?" asked the cultist.

"Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me."

*Crack*

Nomad knocked him out with a solid punch before leaving.

"So, what'd he say?" Midas asked.

"He gave out the location of where the bombs are stored as well as one of the targets."

"So, where we heading first?" Weaver asked.

"Storage site. It's close. Move out!"


	5. Chapter 5

The storage site was, to Nomad's dismay, in the middle of a field. Were it being used for growing corn or some other tall plant it wouldn't have been an issue, but this field happened to be used for growing cabbages. The short crops would provide no cover for their approach, meaning that they'd have to go in loud.

 _Or will we…_ Nomad thought, as he glanced at the truck they'd used to get there.

"Mount up men."

Nomad climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. The truck's windows were tinted, meaning that they'd have some, if only a little concealment from the cultists' vision.

"What's the plan boss?" Weaver inquired.

"We're gonna cruise in with this truck. With any luck they'll wave us through and we'll be able to drive up unnoticed."

"And if we're spotted?"

"Then we waste every motherfucker in sight." Nomad replied as he pressed on the pedal to take the truck up to the ranch. To his dismay, a cultist stepped out into the road and waved them to stop.

"Shit…" Whispered Midas.

Nomad gripped the wheel harder as the cultist approached the vehicle.

"He's gonna spot us!" Holt hissed.

The cultist walked over towards the passenger side door and knocked on the window.

"Hey, we've got instructions to check out any vehicle that comes in here."

"Stay cool…"

"Hey, can you hear me in there?" Inquired the man as walked back in front of the vehicle.

"Nomad I-"

Midas was cut off as Nomad spontaneously slammed on the gas pedal. The cultist jumped back in shock as the truck sped forward.

"Oh shit oh shit oh sh-"

*Thud*

The truck barreled over him as Nomad sped towards the ranch.

"Open fire!" Shouted the squad leader as the pickup rammed through the gates.

"Fuck!" Midas yelled.

The ranch erupted in a storm of shouts, screams, and gunfire as the cultists and the ghosts all started shooting. Nomad threw the truck into a hard left turn, barely managing to avoid hitting a parked truck.

"Having fun yet?" Nomad called as he swerved around more obstacles.

"No I-" Midas started to say, stopping mid sentence when he saw where they were now heading.

Nomad was flooring it towards the Ranch's barn.

"Oh, Nomad, this is not a good idea!" Yelled Weaver.

"Oh, fuck fuck fuck!" Shrieked Midas as the Truck sped into the barn.

"Everybody BRACE!" Screamed Nomad as he tossed something out the window.

With a mighty smash the truck burst through the other side of the barn, sending splinters everywhere. Nomad slammed on the brakes, bring the pickup to a skidding halt in the field. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small remote and pressed down on it. A second later and the Barn was obliterated in a massive explosion.

"Holy shit!" Holt said.

"God damn Nomad, you really are crazy." Midas said as he collected himself.

"Come on. We gotta check out that airfield."

They all climbed back into the truck and sped off towards Rye & Sons.


	6. Chapter 6

When Nomad and his team arrived at the airfield the chaos had already gotten started. Cultists were pulling up left and right, a plane was taking off, and a helicopter was circling the area.

"Chopper, hit the dirt!" Nomad hissed as he went prone.

From their vantage point they were able to survey the entire airstrip. The cultists seemed to be focusing their fire on one hangar. Its occupant was keeping them pinned down.

"Looks like the local resident is putting up a fight."

Nomad nodded. "Let's see if we can't help him out. Weaver, start sniping. Midas, Holt, with me."

"On it boss." Weaver acknowledged.

"On your six." Responded the others.

Just then the helicopter exploded and spun out of control, courtesy of a rocket fired by the Hangar's defender.

"Holy shit!" Midas exclaimed.

"Weaver, start sniping."

Weaver obliged.

Like dominoes, cultists started falling as Weaver effortlessly dispatched them one by one. The remaining cultists started panicking, unsure of whether to risk getting caught in the resident's line of fire. Eventually they made a break for the treeline, only to run right into Nomad, Midas, and Holt, who all opened fire, their bullets making short work of the hapless lunatics. They weren't the last of their worries however. More white pickups pulled up to the airfield before being joined by a second chopper, which was also dispatched by an RPG round. Weaver kept sniping.

"Hey boss, someone else just showed up to reinforce the guy in the hangar."

The cultists started pulling back, shouting something about "The Deputy". They piled back into their pickups and started fleeing, leaving the defenders to collect themselves.

"Looks like those two have things sorted out. Let's haul ass, I'd rather not have to explain our presence to civvies." Nomad said.

They'd just reached the road when they came across more hostiles. A group of cultists with car trouble.

"Tossing smoke." Nomad reported.

The smoke grenade landed on the ground between the cultists. They'd time only to look down when it burst, releasing a huge cloud of blinding smoke. Five seconds later they'd all been dispatched save for one. Nomad tackled him and restrained him with zip-cuffs.

"Well, lookie here." He said with a grin. "Midas, open the trunk."

Midas obliged and Nomad shoved the cultist in before slamming it.


	7. Chapter 7

Nomad felt satisfied with the day's events. They'd blown up a bunker, killed a bunch of cultists, destroyed a bomb production site. More importantly however, they'd proved a point: That Eden's Gate was not unstoppable, and that it's braindead followers were vulnerable.

"Midas, what's our ETA?" he asked.

They were headed for a bunker they'd cleared out earlier.

"Got about thirty minutes."

Nomad sat back. Casually checking his mirrors, he saw something that caught his eye: A pickup, painted tell-tale white. His suspicions were confirmed when the mirror was shattered by a bullet.

"Shitballs!" he exclaimed.

The fire from their six intensified as the pickup was joined by another.

"Kill those fuckers!" Nomad ordered.

Midas, Holt, and Weaver leaned out of their respective windows to return fire. The hostile pickups inched closer. Big mistake. A bullet introduced itself to the skull of the cultist riding shotgun, killing him instantly as his body tumbled out of the truck. The driver too coked out of his skull to care tried to pull up alongside the ghosts to run them off the road.

Seeing the danger, Nomad used his right hand to shoot the driver in the face with his sidearm. The truck went out of control and smashed into a tree.

"How's it going back there?!" he shouted.

"Got two more trucks after us!" Holt yelled.

"Son of a bitch!" Nomad growled.

A muffled voice came from their trunk.

"Hey! Hello?! What's going on?!"

"Sounds like our new friend just woke up." Midas commented.

Nomad scanned the tree line, looking for a sideroad where they could lose their tail. Seeing one, he hung a hard ride, the car skidding as it traded traction for the rapid change in direction.

"They still on us?" Nomad asked.

"Still coming boss!" Weaver yelled.

"FUCK!" Nomad shouted in frustration.

The truck closest to them started to close the distance, its driver hoping to rear-end the ghosts' vehicle.

"For Eden's Gate!" Screamed the driver.

*Crack!* *Splat!*

The driver's head exploded in a bloody mess, courteously arranged by a bullet from Weaver. The cultist's body slouched forward, throwing the truck into a spin. The pickup behind them tried to evade, but it was a hopeless attempt. It slammed into the spinning vehicle at sixty miles per hour, wrecking both vehicles and killing their occupants.

Seeing the damage, Holt spoke up. "Nice shot weaver!"

Weaver nodded his appreciation.

"You get em'?" Nomad asked.

"Weaver iced em' boss." Reported Midas. "We're in the clear."

Just as Midas finished his sentence, a loud roar was heard overhead as a shadow draped the vehicle.

"Um, I think you may have spoken too soon Midas." Weaver said.

They all looked up. A plane, with Eden's Gate crosses under its wings, had just flown overhead.

"Stay cool, they might not have made us yet." Nomad said.

"Oh, He's doubling back." Holt said as the plane turned back, sliding into position on their six o' clock. "HOLY FUCKING SHIIIIIIIIT!" he screamed as the plane's guns lit up.

"The fuck is this shit? How does a god damned back-woods cult get fucking air-support?!" Midas snapped.

"Who cares? Shoot him!" Nomad yelled back as he began swerving from side to side in an attempt to evade the stream of .50 caliber rounds coming from the plane.

It was a vain attempt. Heavy bullets slammed into their car, wrecking their tires. Blood spattered the windshield. Midas let out a howl of pain.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Nomad shouted as their car spun out of control and skidded off the road.

They smashed through branches and bushes. The last thing Nomad saw was a tree. Then everything went black.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: At the start of Ghost Recon: Wildlands Nomad mentions having a son, and there's some suggestion that Nomad's son has trouble respecting his Father. I thought it might be interesting to elaborate on what his family may be like. Also, according to the Ghost Recon wiki Nomad's canon name is Anthony Perryman. As for his wife and son I just drew names off the top of my head.

March 25th, two days before the events of Far Cry 5…

Anthony Perryman stood in the foyer of his Washington D.C. home. At his feet were two suitcases. One brown, one black. The black one had more locks on it than the other did. His attention however, was not on his suitcases. It was on his wife, Jessica.

"Well Honey, guess this is goodbye for now." He said.

Jessica looked at him, sadness in her eyes.

"They work you too hard Tony. You just got back six months ago, and they're already sending you on another deployment?"

"I'm afraid so." Tony replied. He liked to imagine that it would get easier to say goodbye to his wife before his deployments. It never would. But nothing was more painful than having to lie so completely about where he was going. Were he still in the Army and headed to Afghanistan or the Gulf, they'd have been able to at least Skype once in a while. But he wasn't in the Army anymore. He was a Ghost now, and that meant no contact, no exceptions.

"It shouldn't be too long this time." He said, trying to prop up his voice with reassurement. He wasn't very successful.

"You always say that." Jessica said, frustration and sadness in her voice. "You're gonna miss Jake's birthday you know."

"I know…" Anthony said. It was true. Jake would be turning nine in only a week. And Anthony wouldn't even be able to wish him a happy birthday. His watch vibrated. Time to leave.

"I love you." Jessica said.

"You too." Replied her husband as he grabbed his suitcases.

"Anthony?" She said as he turned to leave.

"Yes, dear?"

"Please come back to us…"

"I will… I promise."

One week later…

 _Please come back to us…_ Nomad recalled his Wife's last words to him before he'd left for this mission. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He hung suspended, upside down in his seat. His squadmates were in the same situation. After veering off the road their car had smashed through an old pine, rolled, and finally landed in a shallow lake or pond. A trail of blood seemed to seep from the back of the car. Evidently their prisoner had bought it. Nomad tried to reach for his knife to cut the seat belt when he heard a sound that sent shivers down his spine.

"Find the sinners!" Echoed a voice in the distance.

The cultists were coming for them.

"Aww fuck…" Holt said slowly as he started to wake.

"We need to move. We-" Nomad stopped cold as he saw the blood on the windshield. Turning, his heart skipped a beat. "Oh fuck, Midas."

Midas was in a bad way. He was badly bruised as were they all, and a bloody wound decorated his left leg.

"Fuck, Midas. Midas!" Nomad hissed, trying to rouse him without making too much of a racket.

"Wha- Aw, Fuck my leg!" Midas moaned, waking.

In the back-seat Holt had managed to wake Weaver.

"Fan out! They can't have made it far!"

The cultists were getting closer.

"We gotta get the fuck out of here."

"There they are!" Shouted a voice.

Nomad heard splashes and seconds later they were surrounded by cultists on all sides.

"Up and adam!" Sang one as he grabbed at Midas.

"Get the fuck off me!" Midas demanded as he was dragged out.

A storm of cursing followed as Holt and Weaver were grabbed and dragged off.

"You're next buddy!" said another as he reached for Nomad.

"Cultist fuck! Leave me alone!" Nomad snarled as the cultist pulled him out of the vehicle.

"Sir, this is for your own safety!" said the man as he put zip cuffs around Nomad's wrists before forcing him into a kneeling position.

 _My safety? How deluded is he to think that zip cuffing me is beneficial to my health?_

Nomad glared upwards as he was surrounded by more cultists. Apparently, they planned to interrogate him on the scene.

Meanwhile...

John seed paced around his torture room. In the center, tied to a chair, was one of the deputies who'd been sent to arrest the Father.

"Deputy Joey Hudson." He said in his smooth voice. "Mmm… such a lovely name. What is, your sin?"

Hudson looked up at him, her eyes burning with defiant hatred.

"Go to hell, John Seed!" She shouted.

John recoiled in fake surprise, pretending to be hurt.

"Oh, that wasn't very nice. You hurt my feelings deputy." He said.

Continuing his circle around her, he continued, "That wasn't very nice at all."

Hudson craned her neck. John was in her blind spot now.

Turning to examine his tool bench, John began, "You need to learn…" as his fingers curled around a wrench. Turning around, he continued, "…to be POLITE!" His voice escalated to a rageful howl as he threw the wrench through the air at Hudson, not so hard as to cause unconsciousness, but to cause simple, blinding, pain. She screamed out as the wrench hit her in the back of the head.

John retrieved the wrench and was about to swing again when a cultist burst through the door, waving his arms in excitement.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" John screamed at the man, furious at being interrupted.

"John, its Hank! They found em'!" said the cultist, utter glee in his voice.

"That's awfully VAGUE, Wayne. WHO did Hank find, exactly?" Growled the youngest of the Seed brothers, barely tempering his anger at the intrusion.

"The four guys been mak'n all the trouble round here!" Wayne said, seemingly oblivious to John's volcanic temperament.

As soon as he heard those words, John's entire demeanor changed.

"Hank found them?" he said, suddenly elated.

"Yeah, they down by the ol' swimm'n hole!"

"Well, tell Hank I will be by shortly." John said, the smoothness returning to his voice.

"Yes suh!" Wayne said before scurrying away.

Turning back towards Deputy Hudson, John said, "Well Joey, looks like we'll have to pick this up later."

Retrieving his coat from a coatrack made of antler, he walked out of the room, whistling some casual tune.

Fifteen minutes later…

Nomad sat in a kneeling position. Two cultists stood around him, guns ready. Nearby, another one was fidgeting with Scout. Amazingly, the drone had not only survived the crash, but its status light was blinking green, indicating all systems were functioning. Which meant the electro-shock anti-tampering system was still working.

The cultist was apparently oblivious to the fact that messing around with military hardware was a bad idea. Nomad watched as the man flipped Scout over to examine its underside.

 _Oh, bad idea buddy_.

The cultist had started to reach for the access panel that the techs used to conduct internal repairs to the drone. The access panel also was home to one of the shock nodes. The cultist tried to jimmy open the panel, and in doing so, came into contact with the node. An instant later he recoiled back, yelping in pain before collapsing. Scout's defense systems had the voltage of a heavy taser, and the cultist had just experienced it firsthand. Nomad snorted in satisfaction.

Turning towards one of his captors, Nomad asked, only half sarcastically, "So, who here's trying to suck a promotion out of John Seed's cock? You, right?" He nodded at a cultist with a particularly bushy beard.

"There is no cock-sucking allowed at Eden's Gate." Said a smooth voice from behind Nomad.

The Cultists all took a step back as John Seed, clad in slacks, vest, and trench coat, stepped around from behind Nomad.

"So, you're the one who's been causing so much trouble lately… I've been very anxious to meet you."

Nomad glared up at John.

"Ah, where are my manners? I'm John, though based on the message you carved into my man's chest I think you already know that. I love your work. So, who are you?"

"Go fuck yourself John Seed." Nomad grunted.

"My, such a temper." John Seed said with a flicker of amusement as he continued to circle Nomad.

"I get that a lot. How bout you cut these zip ties at we can work this out like gentlemen?" Nomad asked sarcastically.

"Mmm, sorry, can't do that. I still need to learn your sin." Pausing, John continued, "Take them away!"

Nomad was about to speak again when a bag was thrown over his head. Someone forced him to stand up again, then marched him off before pushing him into the back of what he assumed was a van. The doors were slammed, and Nomad heard the engine start up.

 _This is not good…_


	9. Chapter 9

The van rumbled along the road, hitting the occasional pothole. Nomad's thoughts however were not on the road, but on how he was going to get out of this situation. He'd been caught, cuffed, and worst of all, seperated from his squad. And he _really_ didn't like the way the cultist guarding him looked at him. He was also a little embarrassed at the fact that the goons behind his capture weren't know-it-all ecoterrorists, radical Russian generals, or KGB agents. No, he and his fellow ghosts, some of the most elite troops the US had to offer, had been captured by a band of hillbilly fuckwit cults.

 _I need to get out of here..._

Suddenly a light went up in Nomad's head. Carefully reaching into his back pocket, he found a small, rounded remote. Feeling for its button, he began tapping it.

 _Meanwhile..._

The crash-site had been mostly vacated since Nomad's capture. Only a few cultists were wandering around. On a park bench sat the form of Scout, the Ghosts' drone. After the little electroshock incident the cultists had decided to leave sleeping dogs alone, and the drone lay neglected, its various lights dimmed. Suddenly a signal reached its processor. Recognizing the protocol, the drone's quiet rotors spun up and the tiny UAV slowly rose until it rested above the treeline. Turning to follow its signal, the drone headed off, while transmitting a signal of its own elsewhere.

 _Meanwhile in Washington..._

Agent Whistler reclined in his chair. Another boring night at Langley. At least for him. Interrogation duty had already been claimed for this evening, so he had to settle for handling radio communications from Ghost Recon forces. And, as their name would imply, communications were sparse to say the least. Whistler looked at his watch. Four more hours. He yawned, and was about to doze off when the door swung open. Spinning around, he found himself face to face with his boss, Dunn.

"Whistler! Were you sleeping?!"

"No sir, I, I was just-" Whistler started to say.

"Forget it, I don't want to hear your excuses. Has Nomad's report come in yet?" Dunn asked.

"Nothing yet sir. I-" Whistler was cut off by a loud beeping sound. Turning to face his computer screen, now flashing red with the message: ALERT! OPERATIVE COMPROMISED!

"Oh shit..."

A window popped up detailing the source of the message and its location. Currently it was being broadcasted by Nomad Team's drone.

"Bring up the drone's camera feed." Dunn ordered.

Whistler did so. The drone's camera was focused on a white van. Whistler switched it to Tactical view, and the occupants were highlighted. Three men, one restrained. The man who was restrained was marked in blue, indicating a Ghost Operative, and confirming that Nomad was indeed compromised.

"Get me the Air Branch! And bring up all our files on the Eden's Gate operation. Now!" Dunn yelled. Turning to Whistler, he said, "Looks like our day's about to get real interesting..."

 _Three hours later..._

"We's here! Get up!" Grunted the cultist.

Before he could react, Nomad was grabbed by the cultist and roughly forced to his feet as the rear doors to the van opened.

"Out you go!"

The cultist shoved Nomad out onto the ground. Righting himself, Nomad looked up to see John again, smugly looking down on him.

"Ah, we meet again. Tell me Soldier, what is your purpose here?"

"To royally fuck up your operation." Nomad muttered.

"I figured as much. So, who do you work for? CIA? FBI? Or are you some 'Soldier of Fortune' sent by another party?"

Nomad glared up at him.

"The strong silent type huh? Mmmm..." John flashed a disturbing grin, before suddenly rearing his leg back and kicking Nomad in the chin. Turning towards his cultists, John snarled, "Leave us!" The men scattered.

"I'm going to ask you again. Who do you work for?"

"Fuck you."

Anger flashed in Seed's eyes and he punched Nomad in the face. Despite John's seemingly thin frame, his swings had a lot of force behind them.

"If you don't drop the attitude I'll break your kneecaps." John growled. "Now, for the last time, who do you-" John was cut off by footsteps.

"JOHN! JOHN! I-"

The cultist's face exploded, shattered by a bullet. John held his pistol, absolutely livid.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DISTURB ME!" Screamed John as he kicked the man's corpse.

Nomad worked up the energy to speak.

"Wow, you really have a way with your Men." He mocked.

"Quiet!" John snapped.

"Heh, from the way you treat them, it's no wonder they're such bitches when I interrogate them."

John stared at him, pure rage flickering behind his eyes.

Nomad chuckled.

"Stop, laughing."

Nomad kept chuckling.

"STOP LAUGHING!" John screamed as kicked Nomad in the stomach, leaving him breathless.

A group of cultists had come to watch. John glared at them.

"Take him, and the other soldiers, to the Crosses. GO!" Snarled the Seed.

Eager to obey his instructions the Peggies grabbed Nomad and threw him into the van.

 _Langley, one hour later..._

The Operations room was abuzz with activity. Dunn was pacing back and forth, biting his lip in frustration. It was a feeling that universally infected the men present. They'd just watched one of the most elite soldiers in the US military get the shit kicked out of him, and there was nothing they could do about it.

"God dammit! There's got to be a way to rescue him." Dunn growled.

"What about Black Hawks? We could request a sortie from Malmstrom-" an agent started to suggest.

"They'd see them coming a mile away!" someone interrupted.

"Then we distract the cultists first!"

"How?!" asked a third agent.

"What about an airstrike? Mountain Home Airbase has Strike Eagles..."

"Right, because F-15s are _so_ much more subtle."

"Then what would you suggest?!"

Dunn felt like his head was going to explode.

"What about Ramirez's team?"

 _shut up._

"What about them?"

 _shut up shut up shut up!_

"We could get them to-"

 _shut up shut up shut up shut up-_

Dunn snapped.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he roared.

The whole room froze.

"I have four missing operatives, who are about to be butchered by a bunch of HILLBILLY FUCKWITS, and you piss ants are arguing about subtlety?!"

Dunn looked around, daring to be challenged. Nobody was taking him up on it.

"Now, we are OUT OF TIME, and OUT OF OPTIONS. I'm authorizing the airstrike. Get ahold of Air Command and Mountain Home AFB"

"Yes sir."

Dunn slowly exhaled, and picked up the handset.

 _Meanwhile..._

"Brothers!" John's voice echoed across the field. "Today is the day we strike a blow against the vile snake that has infiltrated our garden!"

 _Smug cocksucker..._ Nomad thought.

"Keep moving!" grunted one of the men guarding him.

As he was pushed out of the treeline his stomach turned. Behind John stood a row of four crosses. Nomad was forced onto his knees in front of one. Next to him, he saw that Holt, Midas, and Weaver were in the same situation. In front of them, a cultist wearing wolf skins and moose antlers paced, reading verses of the bible.

 _This is it. Sorry Jessica, looks like I won't be able to keep my promise after all._ Nomad thought.

Nomad heard Antler-guy asking the rest of the squad to repent. Weaver remained silent. Moving onto Holt, the cultist began to speak again.

"The father forgives all... You can still repent. You just need to-"

"FUCK YOU!" Holt screamed. "Fuck you and your cult you dumb fucking hick!"

Antler-man was about to address Nomad when John put his hand on his shoulder.

"Stop. I will speak to this one."

The man obliged, not wanting to incur John's wrath.

"One last chance, to repent, all you have to do, is say YES." John hissed the last word. Nomad blocked him out, determined that he would die thinking about his family. A tough task when John was staring him straight in the eye. Suddenly John's face changed.

"Oh. OH! You, YOU, have a family don't you!" John cackled.

 _Oh fuck no._

"Oh, oh this, this is too good. I wonder what your WIFE would say to you now. And your KIDS."

"MOTHER FUCKER!" Nomad screamed.

John spun back around to face the crowd again. Finishing his speech, he nodded to Antler Guy before walking away. As the cultist turned to look at Nomad, a faint roar was heard overhead. Followed by a faint shriek. Which grew louder. And louder.

Suddenly a voice in the crowd shouted, "Up, up there!"

Nomad looked to the sky, and saw a bright flare coming down, a bright trail in its wake. He closed his eyes. Time seemed to slow.

A massive explosion rocked the area.

 _Mountain Home AFB..._

"Eagle One, Shack on the target."

"Roger that Eagle One, head on home."

Lt. Commander David Och sighed. Picking up the handset, he said, "Eagle One reports positive hit on the target Dunn. I really hope you have a way to explain all this to the army of political leeches that'll be coming for you."

Dunn's voice responded, "Thanks Commander, give that pilot the day off, he deserves it."


	10. Chapter 10

Nomad wasn't entirely sure what had happened. Only a moment ago he was about to be executed. Now he was on his back, surrounded by smoke. Around him, he heard cultists moaning. Ahead of him, he saw Antler Guy stumbling around, his body ablaze. Nomad started to pull himself up when a boot planted itself on his hand.

"What, have you DONE?!" Snarled John. The calm facade was gone, only unhinged hatred and rage remained. "Gah, I'll have to finish you, myself!"

Nomad felt around him for something, anything he could use to fight back.

John reached into his jacket and drew a large knife. "This is, the end, you snake!"

Nomad's fingers closed around a burning branch. With all his strength, he swung it into John's face. John snarled in pain, recoiling. Nomad seized the moment, and kicked out at John's knees. John stumbled, and fell directly onto a burning pile of wood. The younger Seed howled in pain as the flames enveloped him.

Nomad picked himself up, shouting, "FUCK YOU! And FUCK your GOD!"

John's immolated form twisted and turned before going still. Nomad stood, panting, his eyes fixed on the mutilated corpse. Holt walked up from behind.

"Yo, Nomad. We should make tracks. I don't want to be here when the rest of Eden's Gate shows up."

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." Nomad responded as he turned to follow Holt.

 _Washington..._

Whistler let out a slow whistle.

"That, was one hell of a blast. You think our guys made it?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Only one way to find out." Dunn replied. "Switch over to tactical view."

Whistler tapped a few keys on his keyboard, until the camera feed lit up with a lot of different information.

"They've got good vitals! They made it!" Someone cheered.

Sure enough, the pane showing Nomad Squad's vitals indicated that all squad members were still breathing, if a little shaken. Weaver was helping Midas to his feet, and Holt was walking towards Nomad, who seemed to be engrossed in watching a burning corpse.

Dunn let out a sigh of relief. "Okay people, brace yourselves. We're about to get an earful from the political crowd. Press Jockeys, start thinking about a story to give to the reporters. Hope County's pretty isolated, but I don't want any stones left unchecked."

 _Eden's Gate Church, Hope County..._

Joseph stood on his altar, flanked by Jacob and Faith.

"Brothers, Sisters..." He began. "A foul snake has infiltrated our garden. And it has taken many of us with its venom. We all know that John was not always perfect. He was hated by many, and feared by even more. But he was also our brother. And this foul deed must not go unpunished."

Jacob stepped forward and quietly said to Joseph, "Worry not Brother, my hunters will find them. John's death shall not go unavenged." Jacob turned to leave, but was stopped when Joseph put his hand on the older man's shoulder.

"Be careful Jacob. Wrath is among the deadly sins. Be careful that you don't allow it to consume you, lest you become a monster yourself."

Jacob was silent for a moment, then answered, "Of course Brother."

Satisfied, Joseph released his grasp. After Jacob was out of earshot, he whispered to Faith, "Watch him closely. Ensure that he doesn't stray from the lord's will."

Faith nodded. "Yes Joseph."


	11. Chapter 11

As they drove away from the execution ground turned crater, Nomad thought about the past few days. They'd completed part of their mission: John Seed was dead. Not just dead, he'd died _slowly_ , which is exactly what he deserved. Despite this, Nomad felt glum. Before he left his home he had _promised_ his wife that he'd come back. Less than an hour ago, he'd come within an inch of breaking that promise. Nomad had seen good men die. Men who left behind families. His train of thought was interrupted when Holt spoke up.

"Hey, that near death experience got me thinking. I haven't gotten my will together. Now, I don't have anyone to leave anything to, but uh, I've got a request for you guys."

 _Good, I need to think about something else anyway._

"If I die here, do me a favor and burn my hard drive okay? Oh, and my journals. And in my garage there's a box of old videos that need to be torched. Oh, there's also a bunch of folders that I want- Come to think of it, just burn my house down."

 _What the fuck?_

Weaver was in the back, bandaging Midas's wound. As it turned out, the .50 cal bullet from the plane hadn't actually hit him, rather, it had fragmented upon hitting the dash board and a piece had been deflected into Midas's leg. It was incredibly lucky. Had Midas actually taken the bullet in his leg he'd be unlikely to walk again. The Ghosts were fortunate in that the Research department of the CIA had come up with a little concoction that boosted coagulation, killed some pain, and topped the user off with a touch of stimulant. Within a couple hours Midas would be up and ready again.

"Nomad, where are we going next?" Weaver piped up.

"Somewhere we can get a radio signal. We need to let command know that John Seed has been dealt with."

"What about that radio tower near Falls End?" Holt suggested.

"Too risky. Plus, I'm sure the local fanatics have thought of that and found a way to fuck it up. Nomad answered.

"Good point." Holt admitted. "What about the Whitetail mountains? Should be a ledge up there we can use."

 _Later..._

It was almost sundown when Nomad and his team finally reached a suitable cliff to send out a signal. Between avoiding Peggy patrols and ensuring they didn't leave any traces of themselves, the trek up the mountain took a lot longer than anyone was expecting.

"Alright. I think this should be high enough. Set up the transmitter Holt."

While Holt began the process of unfolding their portable radio booster, Nomad looked out over the valley. Despite being the center-point of a miniature civil war, Hope County really was a beautiful place.

 _I could almost see myself settling down here..._ He thought.

*Snap*

Nomad's daydreaming was interrupted by the loud disruption.

"Circle! Weapons out!" He hissed. He remembered signs at a summer camp he'd been to at age twelve that warned of cougars prowling around in the evenings. But that wasn't what he was worried about now. Cougars almost _never_ attacked groups of people unless a cub was directly threatened. Were it not for the fact that he'd nearly been executed that same day, he might've passed it off as a bird. But it never hurt to be too careful, especially in these woods. His caution paid off.

From the bushes around them, a howling, animalistic shriek pierced his ears, and before he could process what it was, a human of some form came tearing out of the bush at full speed heading for Holt. It was on him before he could get a shot off.

"What the fuck?! Get off of me!" The technician shouted as he wrestled against the attacker. Kicking out with his legs, he managed to put enough space between himself and the frantic humanoid for Midas to get a shot off. The bullet hit the person in gut, sending it spinning off of Holt and onto the ground. It should've been writhing in pain. But instead, it scrambled up on all fours to lunge again at Holt. Fortunately, the distraction had given Holt a chance to draw his sidearm and shoot the thing point blank in the head, causing its face to explode in a gory paste.

"Crazy BITCH!" Holt snarled as he kicked the corpse.

"What. The fuck. WAS that thing?" Midas asked in astonishment. It didn't look like any cultist they'd seen so far. And it barely looked human. Hairless all over its body, the only remotely "Human" about it was that it had camoflage makeup smeared haphazardly on its body.

"That thing, took a gut shot. NOTHING that walks on two legs should be able to take a gut shot and keep coming like that." Weaver said as he pointed at the gaping abdomen wound."

"No shit." Nomad said. "We need to report this thing. Maybe intelligence will have something on... whatever that is."

Finishing the setup process for their signal booster, Nomad opened a channel to Langley.

"This is Nomad."

"Nomad! Aw Jesus, we thought we'd lost you there." came Dunn's reply.

"You almost did. Whoever fired that AGM deserves a medal. John Seed is dead."

Dunn sighed in relief. "One down, three to go. Who are you going after next?" he asked.

"Well, we're in the Whitetails now, so we're gonna start cracking down on Jacob's operation. Anything we should know?"

Dunn dug through a file cabinet until he found a folder labeled 'Jacob Seed'. "Okay, he's in charge of training and equipping the cult's militia force. Some locals have also reported being attacked by large wolves with 'Crosses' dyed into their fur. And, like the rest of Hope County there've been reports of kidnappings, so watch yourselves. Is there anything else you have to report?" Dunn finished.

"Uh, yeah, we just got attacked by a naked woman. She came at us from the bush, and was more like an animal than anything else. She was able to take a gut shot and still going, so I'm not sure what to think about that." Nomad replied.

"That's... odd. Um, I haven't seen anything like that, but I'll check in with some of our agents and see what we can dig up. Good luck and good hunting." Dunn finished before ending the conversation.

Nomad sighed and looked at the corpse in front of them. No identifying paraphenelia was visible.

 _Better to let sleeping dogs lie._ Nomad thought.

"Okay, we're going to start hitting Jacob Seed's lieutenants and see if we can glean some information from them." Nomad said. "Move out!"


End file.
